


Who We Really Are

by RayneSummer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Connor, Gen, Missing Scenes, Stratford Tower, The Eden Club, i mean it's just Hank in general though so, let's see if i can still write!, probably other people soon, requests are open unless stated otherwise!!, tw: depressed hank? I guess?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 15:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15076601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayneSummer/pseuds/RayneSummer
Summary: A collection of one-shots set in and around Detroit: Become Human.(Time to decide who we really are.).REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please suggest canon-related things!





	1. Safety

**Author's Note:**

> First prompt: Hank taking Connor in after the deviant ending
> 
> [requested by -yrsaoctopus- on Tumblr]

Connor had never felt particularly unsafe, even after investigating all the murders and hearing various threats, but the final appearance of Amanda had shaken him.

After escaping the Zen Garden and half-listening to the rest of Markus’ speech, and the cheering that followed, the unpleasant feeling still wouldn’t leave him. The best he could do was remain impassive with a neutral expression while something twisted in him over and over again, as Markus and North kissed and the flood of androids started excitedly talking amongst themselves, filling the plaza with a loud buzz that quickly became overwhelming.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before Connor could leave. Though the calm walk in the snow didn’t precisely help, it did give him a moment to collect his thoughts. Although his thoughts left him at no doubt where his feet were taking him.

So here they were.

Despite the fact that Hank had said that he’d be outside his favourite haunt before he left the tower, there was a niggling doubt in Connor’s program that had wondered if they would reunite again.

Thankfully anything attached to that doubt was cleared when not only had Hank immediately smiled upon seeing him, but also had initiated a hug.

_Hug: Display of affection; admiration; pride. Most commonly offered between family and friends._

And it was only when Hank had pulled him in that the building feeling – which had been getting close to suffocating – lessened just enough for Connor to properly identify it. Or at least try to.

Stress. Fear. Anxiety? Worry; panic. All of them? …Possibly.

This deviant actually-feeling-emotion thing was going to take some getting used to.

\---

Hank gently pulled away soon enough, but remained silent for a moment as he held Connor at arm’s length and gave him a visual once-over. The kid looked okay – physically, at least. His LED, which had been a slowly flashing yellow as he’d approached, had faded into a calmer but rotating blue.

Something was certainly bothering him. And, after everything that had happened, that was practically a welcome relief. It continued to prove he hadn’t reverted back into an unbothered machine.

Not that the idea of that had been on Hank’s mind at all while he’d been waiting.

He chuckled a little and gave Connor’s shoulder a pat before dropping his hand, turning to approach the car behind him.

“C’mon, son. Let’s get out of here.”

Connor’s expression turned to slightly confused but he took a step towards the car after Hank, who in turn stopped to glance back at the android, looking almost amused or possibly pleased about something.

Before Connor could ask, Hank held up the keys and unlocked the vehicle, moving to get in as he gestured for Connor to take the other side. “Well, don’t leave the door open,” he grumbled with pretend annoyance as he sat and waited for Connor to get in the passenger side.

“I apologise, lieutenant. I am finding it slightly hard to focus right now.”

That wasn’t exactly a response Hank had been expecting. Nevertheless, once the doors were closed he started driving, with a quick concerned glance at the unusually quiet android beside him.

 Usually, deathly silence wasn’t really Hank’s thing. There should always be something on (to distract from thoughts; memories) in the background, preferably. But it seemed… right – felt right, almost, to let the silence stay as they drove through deserted streets. Connor was clearly still processing all the shit that had happened and it seemed best to let him finally have a quiet moment.

Long drives without interruption used to be something Hank used to do occasionally. Not that he’d tell anyone. Good time to think though.

They drew up outside Hank’s house and he ignored the curious look he was getting in favour of leaving the car, gesturing for his passenger to do the same. Possibly Connor didn’t need to be told, but judging on the amount of general social cues he tended to miss, and his condition right now, it was best to clearly show what was suggested for the situation.

Hank automatically headed up the path to the door and started fiddling with his keys before he realised he hadn’t been followed.

“Connor?”

The kid looked up but his eyes were still unfocused. There was something behind them, almost like panic. It was the kind of look deviants they’d interrogated got just before doing something stupid.

“I…” Connor’s gaze hesitated on the house, seemingly analysing it again, thinking of the last time he was here, or other situations where he’d be here for different reasons.

It was tiring to watch him be so hypervigilant, so god knows how exhausting it was to do.

Hank sighed. “Look, Connor, you don’t have to stay, alright? To be honest, I don’t know what to do either. I just thought…” He shrugged helplessly, trying to convey his frustration and worry of the last few hours – if not days. “I don’t know. I dunno what I thought. Just, well, shit is still sort of going down so I figured you’d be safe here for a bit? Somethin’ like that.”

There was a sudden booming bark from inside, and Connor full-on jumped at the sound. Now Hank was quite cold from the snow and definitely concerned about the kid, whose LED was flashing yellow like a warning light.

Usually, Hank would physically help by shoving him into the warm, but Connor’s disposition right now actually reminded him rather strongly of the first deviant they’d talked to, the one that hadn’t wanted to be touched, but had followed when asked. Whether that was a universal thing or not, who knew, but it was worth a shot.

So he just gestured to the house, muttering as he unlocked the door, “better get in before Sumo breaks a fuckin’ window tryna get to us.”

Either the gruff fondness of the sentence or the reminder of the unfolding situation finally clicked with Connor, and he dutifully followed his partner up the path and into the house without a word, where Sumo indeed gave them both a sloppy greeting.

Hank light-heartedly scolded the dog for being in the way as he headed to the kitchen, glancing back to see Connor bend down and somewhat thoughtfully pet the St Bernard, looking slightly calmer than he had all evening.

Actual full explanations could wait, but this instability needed to be dealt with, before anything happened. Not  that something might happen, but it would be better to complete avoid it.

So Hank crossed his arms as he scanned the kid with his simple human vision, which nonetheless was quite observant.

“Are you hurt?” He asked in a much softer tone.

Connor looked up in slight surprise and took an almost instantaneous internal stock of himself before shaking his head.

Hank squinted at him. “What are you feeling? You’re… not in danger here, you know that, right?”

The last bit kind of slipped out, but goddammit the look on that android’s face needed reassuring and taking care of. Connor had never looked like that – it wasn’t just fear, it was hidden panic and something else too, something that was overwhelming him.

“I…” He started again, and sighed himself as he tried to find words to explain at least some of it to Hank. The lieutenant deserved it, after all. “I feel… like something huge just happened,” he tried to explain.

Hank grunted and raised an eyebrow. “Well, it did, Connor. And you helped.”

“…I guess.” Remembering Hank wouldn’t know the details, Connor took a breath and briefly outlined what actually happened when he’d led the CyberLife androids to Markus. And then, even more briefly, mentioned Markus’ speech and Amanda’s involvement.

There were clearly many questions Hank had, but he kept them all to himself for now, which Connor was grateful for. He was feeling overloaded as it was. And still just getting used to that feeling.

“I almost killed him there and then, Hank. I could’ve—”

“But you didn’t.” Hank fixed him with a serious look. “Connor. Look at me.”

With slight hesitation, Connor raised his gaze to meet his partner’s. Hank was calm and his relaxed posture, as well as the familiar surroundings, were finally offering some emotional relief.

“You could’ve done a lot of things. But instead, you went against everything you’ve been doing and helped everyone to survive. You’ve faced down a fuckin’ split-image of yourself – and that’s enough to shake anyone up, even an android – and then got fuckin’ controlled against your will by some bitch who sounds like she’s been fucking manipulating you this whole time, but still you resisted it.”

Connor blinked. There wasn’t any need to scan Hank in any way to know he was telling the truth.

He sighed and gestured loosely around the room to indicate their current situation. “As for this, well.” He frowned. “First, you look like you’re about to keel over in a fuckin’ panic attack or something— and I don’t want to hear whether androids can suffer shit like that or anything,” he added, waving a hand.

A smile tugged at the corner of Connor’s mouth at the immediate disregard for correct information. Typical.

“And, I don’t know, I have no idea what you’ll do now, but y’know, whatever it is that you have plans for, just know that you can, well, hang out here for a while. Just… let me know if you go out for days and shit, yeah?”

Connor nodded once. “Got it,” he replied, and smiled properly. “Thank you, lieutenant.”

Hank huffed and turned away slightly. “Yeah, well. You can do me a favour and stop callin’ me that all the time. We’re not working right now, for Chrissake!”

“Alright. But you should know, Hank, that what you just expressed could be termed as care or affection,” Connor informed him soberly.

The teasing got him a glare but there wasn’t any heat in it. They needed to sit down and have a long talk later, but for now, the profound panic behind Connor’s eyes had finally extinguished itself, and that was what Hank cared about right at this moment. That was what mattered.

Mission accomplished, one could say.

He heaved another sigh and turned around to head to the kitchen, and, knowing what might be coming, he added as he searched, “Hey, and none of your bitching, okay, it’s been a fuckin’ long night!”

“If you say so, lieutenant. Though maybe you could work on your excessive swearing in sentences instead?”

The only reply was a middle finger. Connor smiled again and bent down to resume petting Sumo. He didn’t know what his next move was, but for the moment, he was safe and the suffocating feeling had finally receded.

A feeling that could be described as ‘home’ had replaced it, temporarily at least. And that worked for now.


	2. Of Damage and Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Failing the fight with the Tracis roughs Connor up a bit.  
> And considering my obsession with these boys and hurt/comfort in general... well, this was certainly going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this doesn't line up with the Bridge scene immediately afterwards but shhh..

The fight between the Traci deviants hadn’t even been particularly difficult, it was just that Connor had been… surprised, that was it. He had been surprised that a different looking deviant from the one he had been originally searching for had jumped out and attacked him.

It wasn’t an official excuse for not subsequently defending himself – and certainly not one that Amanda would accept if she cared to ask – but it could explain why he came out of the fight as damaged as he did.

Unfortunately it also didn’t really explain why Connor hadn’t shot the fleeing androids even after rushing after them with an armed gun.

He’d have to come up with a different excuse for that.

Hank approached quietly from behind, the man’s footsteps crunching gently on the sparsely snow-covered ground. He watched as the two deviants leapt down the other side of the fence and ran off, while Connor slowly lowered the gun.

The android stared, gun loose in his hand, LED swirling yellow with thoughts.

“Maybe it’s better this way.”

Connor glanced at the lieutenant, expression unusually open – confusion and helplessness struggling to be covered by the neutral face he should be wearing.

He hesitated, unsure of his position in this situation. He should have shot. He should have stopped them. It wasn’t better this way – Amanda… She already felt like replacing him, and this hadn’t done him any favours at all.

Hank gave Connor an interesting look before just as quietly turning and walking leisurely back to the warehouse. It was almost… pride? The situation outcome was pleasing to him, at any rate.

Connor didn’t understand it.

But it didn’t matter any more, they ought to move on; he had failed in this and it was time to find another lead before Amanda really did write him off as dysfunctional; maybe they could track the Tracis down later or something and find out more, after all a broken android couldn’t tell them anything, and that’s what would have happened if he’d shot.

The rain continued to patter down as Connor turned to join Hank, intending to follow his partner out of the establishment.

Several red error messages stopped him as they flashed, obscuring his vision and making the corresponding damaged parts of his body emulate what could possibly be called pain in a human, but in this case was just an alert of feeling so he knew where he was injured.

Still, the suddenness after fighting and witnessing an escape manage to shock Connor, the combination of red warnings in his sight and feeling radiating from the wounds sending him to his knees.

Shit.

Connor quickly ran a self-scan, identifying minor damage at his upper left and right chest as well as through his right hand where the screwdriver had stabbed him.

It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t life-threatening. And since the investigation was over, he was about to return to CyberLife anyway. On the way, his system could start on self-repairs to fix the damaged wiring and ensure continued full working of related limbs and—

“Connor?” A hand on his shoulder and the unusually lowered gruff voice brought him out of damage reports. He blinked, trying to ignore the insistent warnings, and looked up to see Hank crouched by him.

The man’s expression could only be described as concerned, though it relaxed slightly when Connor acknowledged him.

“My apologies, Lieutenant,” the android began smoothly, having realised he was interrupting their departure from the place to continue the investigation. “I seem to have been non-fatally damaged during a struggle with one of the deviants.” He straightened up slightly, but the hand tightened on his shoulder instead of being dropped. “I did not notice due to the chase, but I have now completed a scan and I am still in perfect working order, I will return to CyberLife shortly to receive repairs to—”

But as he tried to start standing while he talked, Hank put a hand on his other shoulder, preventing Connor from rising and causing enough confusion in the android to stop him talking as well.

Hank gave the kid a once-over when he finally stilled, immediately noting where blue blood had blossomed on his front from wounds the former hadn’t noticed in the previous brief glance. Android or not, Hank had never been one to leave an injured… partner… to fend for themselves.

He hesitated, not entirely sure what exactly to do. Connor was staring at him curiously.

“Lieutenant? May I suggest we leave—”

“You’re hurt.” The lieutenant interrupted him for the second time in a row. He frowned.

“I assure you I am perfectly functional, it is merely—”

“Just stay down for one goddamn second, okay?” After a second Hank sighed, taking his hands off Connor’s shoulders once he knew the kid was going to wait for a minute. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

Connor blinked. “What I stated is true, my self-repair is already active and CyberLife can—”

“I mean, more like you aren’t going to collapse behind my back again as we get out of here?”

He paused, simultaneously registering the frustration bleeding into Hank’s voice as he quickly checked the chances of falling any time after standing back up. “No, I believe not.”

The lieutenant frowned a little, trying to work out if it was the truth or not (it was, at least statistically) before taking a breath and standing himself, immediately reaching down with his left hand to help pull Connor up with the android’s uninjured hand.

“Alright, well… let’s get out of here.” He eyed the kid for a second but true to his word, Connor didn’t even sway as he fixed his tie and waited expectantly for Hank to head off.

They headed back through the warehouse together, the deviants escaped and the investigation over for now.

Hank glanced sideways at Connor, who indeed seemed to be fine despite the blue blood staining his blazer. “Next time you get hurt, let me know how bad it is straight away, alright,” he muttered gruffly.

Connor looked at him with that confused curiosity again, as if he couldn’t understand the concern. But he just blinked, accepting it.

“Got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out just over 1000 words when it was planned to be about 500 if I could manage it, and took a while but tbh it's not too bad!  
> Especially for second time writing in quite a while, and an own idea no less! Missing scene types are definitely one of my favourites to do because I have an extremely canon and strong basis to write off, which is most helpful when my own ideas won't translate into words.  
> I would love to write more, so please request stuff if you have any ideas!! Only rules are canon related stuff, no ships (just to be safe), but familiar relationships are very encouraged! I'll never tire of friendships...  
> Let me know if you have a request!


	3. Diet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt - diet
> 
> from Brizy in a AO3 comment

“Lieutenant, I believe you may have… issues with your diet and lifestyle.”

Hank didn’t bother looking up from where he was sitting on the sofa drinking a beer with the TV on. “I don’t have a problem with diet; _you_ have a problem with _my_ diet.”

Connor frowned as he poured dog food into Sumo’s bowl in the kitchen, the dog waiting not-quite patiently until he was finished then immediately tucking in, tail wagging. The android patted the St Bernard’s head before joining Hank in the living room, standing slightly hesitantly beside the sofa.

The older man ignored him for a moment before sighing and turning to raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“I understand you do not particularly think about your eating habits often,” Connor began, “but I would urge you to at least think about trying to peruse… healthier ideals.”

“What the fuck does ‘ideals’ mean?”

“Ideal habits, Lieutenant. To start a healthier diet.”

“It’s Hank.” He eyed the android suspiciously. “And what brought this on? Sure, you’re always on my ass about one think or another but aside from the evil look, I thought you gave up on,” he tried to put quote fingers in air around holding the beer, “’amending my diet’ to ‘better suit a healthy lifestyle’ or some shit.”

Connor blinked, bemused. That was one of the longest replies Hank had almost ever given.

“Well, I was talking with Markus earlier,” he took the admission as a sign to continue, “and as you might know he used to take care of an elderly man—”

He was stopped by a hand held out in dismissal. “Okay, stop right there. I’m not fuckin’ elderly yet, thanks, and especially not for this fuckin’ day and age, for one,” Hank retorted, lowering his hand and glaring at the android, who continued to look innocent – if maybe slightly bothered about being interrupted as he was just starting his ‘healthier lifestyle’ spiel.

Hank glanced at the android face and relented a little. He just wanted Hank to listen.

“Alright, fine. What do you suggest?”

Connor looked confused at the sudden change of heart, but brightened up a little at the chance to list off several points that had been stored away for such a time as this.

“Well,” he started, as Hank tried his best not to regret letting this happen, “You eat a lot of takeout and often order ‘your usual’ at your friend’s outlet, none of which contains the nutrients you should be consuming on a daily basis.”

“I thought you said it contains too much stuff,” Hank grunted, glancing uninterestedly at the TV, which was showing adverts.

Connor corrected calmly, “yes, ‘too much’ of bad nutrients and too many calories.”

“Alright, whatever.”

“So I was wondering if you would permit me to try and cook healthier meals for you,” he finished, phrasing the end as both a question and a statement in order to establish ‘what he wanted’, something that Hank usually tried to encourage.

Said man was watching him with a rather disbelieving frown on his face. Connor knew better than to try and explain himself further, so he just waited.

There was a pause as Hank thought it over, looking from Connor to the table to Sumo lying on the floor.

Maybe… it was time to change something.

Of course, nothing could change immediately – that had been clear from trying to stop drinking so much; granted, he was better and (slightly) less grumpy about it, but it had been tough to stop drowning in a whiskey bottle at night, and sobering up all day with coffee and headache medications had been quit exhausting.

But now, thanks mostly to Connor’s influence and nagging, he had cut down amazingly. A couple of beers a day may still seem a lot to some people, but Connor had said on more than one occasion that he was very proud. And, really, that was all the encouragement Hank needed.

The gun, of course, had been thrown in the bedside draw months ago, with the bullet taken out and placed gently beside it one night.

Those things had been hard to change. They had been his life for years now, and then one android had broken his window and changed… not everything, but enough. No one could change everything.

But a certain persistent person could change enough.

So Hank rubbed his chin and cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward, or more pointedly, annoyed at himself that he’d been brushing Connor off on this for so long. True, he had already done several things the kid had been talking about, but there was never enough one could do for someone that saved his life in many ways. The kid wanted him alive. That was reason enough to be so.

He took a deep breath. “Alright, son. If you’re up for more of my fuckin’ whining,” he added, lightening the mood a little.

Connor smiled. “Thank you, Hank,” he replied simply, and turned back to the kitchen before pausing. “Although, you tend to grumble whatever the situation.”

“Okay, shut the fuck up. And don’t burn down my fuckin’ kitchen!”

“I will try my best, Lieutenant.”

Hank rolled his eyes, a smile on his face. Connor’s best was good enough for him. Even if they did end up setting something on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so fucking long, I wrote the first like two sentences then spent all day trying to write the rest of it, and ended up spending hours just scribbling some crap tonight while watching Mrs Brown's Boys with my brother, which is nevertheless hopefully okay (the fic, not the program, though that's okay too). Anyway, it's done!   
> If my writing is acceptable, then please comment and stuff, and feel free to leave a prompt suggestion if you want! Though I do actually have work to do now so I might focus on that a little bit. Ha. Maybe.  
> Thanks for the prompt and for reading!


	4. Unusual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AngelFace 273 – aftermath of Connor’s freakout when you find Simon at Stratford Tower and Connor experiences Simon’s death.

He was shaking.

It was barely noticeable to visually see from a human’s perspective, or at least should have been. But Hank had been side-eying him ever since they left the rooftop and Connor didn’t need to scan to be told that the man was concerned.

It was strange. The whole ordeal had been strange. He had felt some sort of _fear_ – there was no use denying it.

(Not only because denying it wouldn’t hide it from Amanda, but also because humans are the ones who constantly _deny_ things, and he was not a human.)

But it was strange. Odd. Unusual.

“You alright?” A gruff voice, uncharacteristically low, spoke out from beside Connor in the lift that he couldn’t quite remember walking into a minute ago. He glanced at the man, unsure of what a response needed to be. “Your, uh, light thingy’s been yellow for ages,” Hank added with an air of uncertainty, gesturing to the side of his own head to demonstrate what he was talking about.

Connor paused, wondering how to reply. Calmly, he began, “I was… taken aback,” yes, that was it, “by the experience on the roof.” It wasn’t a lie. Lying was human.

Hank narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t continue the conversation. The lift descended down to the bottom of the building in silence aside from its mechanical whirring.

At the ground floor, they walked out and headed to the exit of the building, passing less people than usual in the foyer. Yesterday’s message had shaken a lot of people up, and despite its security, the building didn’t feel completely safe to them.

Conner absently looked around and, for something to do more than anything, compared a guess of the amount of people in the immediate vicinity right now as to how many were usually occupying the foyer.

It was, of course, lower. Which Connor had already known.

Which led to the question why he decided to run the statistic. He shouldn’t do things without needing to, unless they would eventually pertain to the investigation.

Was he distracting himself? Distancing from the mission? That was ridiculous.

Almost lost in thought (as humans would say), Connor failed to realise that they had already arrived on the street outside the building, and walked into Hank in front of him, bumping shoulders with the man before stopping and taking a step back to recalibrate with his surroundings.

Hank was watching him with a raised eyebrow but he didn’t seem angry. “Lost in thought?” He said, echoing the human sentiment Connor had already registered.

“Androids cannot think like humans do; they follow protocol and cannot get lost in directives,” Connor answered automatically, but with what almost felt like an edge of defence to usually neutral voice.

There was a pause as they stood on the street opposite each other.

“I was not ‘lost’ in anything, and certainly not thoughts that do not pertain to my investigation,” he continued firmly, and looked away.

“Uh-huh.”

The lieutenant regarded him for a moment more (and maybe Connor was starting to feel… _uncomfortable_? No, he was being - not feeling – _scrutinised_ by the detective) before sighing and turning to his car, which was parked haphazardly on the street almost opposite the entrance, nearby to the FBI van, what was assumingly Perkin’s vehicle, and other police cruisers.

Connor waited politely while Hank unlocked and started to get into his car, but he stopped and glanced back at the android.

“What you standing around for? Get in.”

There was a confused pause as Connor tried to decipher the statement and its meaning. There was no need for him to accompany the lieutenant back to his home, or wherever else he was going. Why the invitation?

“I appreciate the invitation, Lieutenant,” he voiced, with only slight hesitation, “but now the current investigation is over, I should return to Cyb—”

“Get the fuck in the car, Connor.”

He paused again, but there was no real need not to obey the instruction and potentially anger the man as well as possibly damage their working relationship, so Connor navigated his way around the vehicle to get into the other side and sit in the passenger seat, pulling the door closed after him and folding his hands in his lap, staring out the front window.

When the engine didn’t start, he glanced at Hank, who was watching him with a strange expression. It made him feel _uneasy_.

No, it didn’t. It was just odd.

“Connor, I don’t know what the fuck exactly went on up there,” Hank began abruptly, breaking eye contact to stare out the front window as he talked, which was assumingly easier. “But… it’s okay to be scared, and thinking about whatever happened, whatever you saw, and all that shit.”

“I’m not scared,” Connor said. Hank ignored him.

“I mean, hell, seeing someone die in front of you is enough, let alone fuckin’ feeling it or whatever you were doing.” He sighed. “You were pretty shaken up back there—”

“I wasn’t—”

“And I’m just saying,” Hank interrupted, “you can, you know, talk to me or whatever. I mean, I’m not going to have any answers – fuck, you’ve seen me at my lowest, and trust me, I don’t have answers at whatever my fuckin’ best is, but I just…”

He trailed off and glanced back at Connor, who continued to stare with a forced neutral expression.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said suddenly, surprising the both of them.

Hank’s brow creased.

“I appreciate the admission,” Connor continued smoothly, wishing he could play with his coin that had been confiscated, “and though I have no need to… talk it out, so to speak, I recognise the offer of comfort and consoling after an experience and very much do appreciate your words.”

There was a pause and Hank nodded to himself, both arms resting on the steering wheel as he thought.

He glanced at Connor again, and his lips twitched into a small smile that was barely noticeable to someone not paying attention.

Like Connor’s minute shaking.

Hank started the engine and pulled the car out into the street, driving around the parked vans and police vehicles and speeding up once on a clearer road. They drove in a companionable silence and Connor didn’t ask for the route.

“Since you basically said you got nothing to do now, you can come in and say hi to Sumo,” Hank said abruptly as they got closer to the street his house was on.

Connor glanced at the window at the snow. “I would like that,” he replied.

It wasn’t part of his mission to pet dogs or accept an invitation to Lieutenant Anderson’s just because he’d been asked, but right now, he didn’t care.

The shaking in his hands finally stopped as Hank parked the car outside the house and gestured for Connor to exit.

There was a single deep bark from inside the building as Hank went to open the door and Connor followed. A mess of fur and slobber greeted them when they entered, Hank’s grumbling about Sumo being too big to jump up in the background.

For once ignoring the need to complete the mission, Connor knelt and stroked the dog.

Sumo grunted in pleasure at the attention and Connor couldn’t help smiling. He didn’t correct himself. And found he didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this in the spur of the moment without watching the scene in question (even though it's one of my favourites ngl) and it took like an hour and idk what it really is but I hope it's okay anyway, these two are so great always and forever amen
> 
> Hope you like it! I actually think it's okay despite not taking long and being kind of weird idk but anyway it's done and there we go!   
> Feel free to comment and all that, it's lovely to read stuff about my writing, especially if it's any good :)


	5. 15. "When I'm With You, I'm Home."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What about you? Do you feel at home anywhere?"
> 
> "What do you mean?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon on tumblr from the number prompt list

Connor could often tell when Hank was having a bad day.

Hank could also usually tell when Connor was having not such a good day, though to be fair it was slightly more difficult due to the lack of human tics and symptoms – though Hank insisted that Connor had his own subtle behaviours that suggested when something wasn’t going right.

Nonetheless, today it was about Hank. He’d been sitting on the sofa all morning, after dragging himself out of bed later than usual and refusing breakfast when Connor asked.

The android was privately relieved that it wasn’t a day they had to be at work, so he could give Hank his undivided, but carefully subtle, attention.

Sumo also seemed to know something was amiss, which wasn’t particularly surprising after Connor’s research on dogs. Many of the animals were reported to just know somehow when their owners were not doing so well. It was pretty amazing, really.

The St Bernard was just sitting beside the sofa, gently nudging Hank’s hand on the armrest every now and again, with a whine that was almost too low for a human’s hearing to pick up. In return, Hank briefly patted the dog on his head or nose for a second, but didn’t stop staring aimlessly at the wall above the TV.

Becoming concerned enough to come up with something to do to try to help, Connor glanced at the wall too, trying to pinpoint what his friend was looking at. Considering his detection abilities, it took him a longer amount of time than it should have to note the picture on the wall.

The one that had previously been on the kitchen table, but had been haphazardly put up at some point, small next to the jazz decorations.

Connor quickly ran a check – it wasn’t a specific date, as far as he knew anyway (and he knew a fair bit, both with and without Hank’s consent), but another quick search in his databanks immediately told him it didn’t have to be a specific day.

But it had been all morning, and Connor felt he should at least try to help, as difficult as that could be.

The obvious answer, according to a primary search, was talking about the issue, but Connor would have to be completely blind to his entire relationship so far with the lieutenant to follow that advice.

That left a few other options, with the one that came up with the highest probability of success being distraction.

Still talking, but a completely different subject. It was worth a try.

Cautiously, Connor sat down on the other end of the sofa, and tried to adopt what Hank called a ‘normal’ pose for ‘relaxing’. Once satisfied, Connor resisted the urge to fix a tie he wasn’t wearing (apparently wearing a suit wasn’t proper ‘home’ clothes), and turned slightly to face his partner.

“This is a nice place,” he said in what he hoped what a ‘casual’ voice. “How long have you lived here?”

There was no response for a minute, then Hank blinked as if just hearing the question, and turned his head slowly to look at Connor, a frown forming on his forehead. “What?”

“This place,” Connor repeated, relieved he at least had Hank’s attention. “It’s nice.”

The lieutenant just stared for a moment, as if trying to comprehend the android’s idea of ‘small talk’. Connor felt slightly uneasy.

“You don’t have to—”

Hank interrupted, “Your social program or whatever is really shit.”

There was a brief silence; Connor, with all his programming, unsure exactly how he was meant to react to get the best result from the interaction.

“Anyway.” Hank glanced around the room as if acknowledging he was presently in it. “It’s not the place, it’s the feeling or people or whatever the fuck they say.” He gave Sumo another pat, the dog’s tail hitting the floor in pleasure.

Not knowing who ‘they’ were specifically, Connor didn’t say anything, instead focusing on Hank and was pleased to note that he was coming out of his dissociative episode, as it were.

“What about you?”

It was Connor’s turn to blink and comprehend the question. “What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely confused.

It was more confusing how he had set out to help Hank and now the man was asking him questions to get him talking again instead. Strange how things worked out.

Hank repeated, “What about you? Do you feel at ‘home’ anywhere?” And raised an eyebrow, suggesting he was genuinely interested in the answer.

Connor thought. There were several valid answers for such a question – even if it was meant to be meaningful rather than logical and straightforward. He cycled through possible replies, wanting to choose the ‘right’ one.

“I…” he hesitated, aware both Hank and Sumo were watching him. Connor looked at them and knew the answer, one that wasn’t based on probabilities and databank information. Which was, based on past experiences, exactly what Hank was looking for.

“Well, I suppose, when I’m with you, I’m home.”

Sumo stuck out his tongue and panted happily as if he could understand what Connor had said, but it was nice anyway. Hank carefully looked back at Connor after glancing at the wall.

He sighed, but there was no exasperation in the sound. “You fuckin’ sap,” he muttered, but a small smile had appeared and Connor considered the outcome: mission success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is sort of shit and not really great but I just wrote it tonight in like an hour and I've been exhausted all day so just take it. As usual projecting my feelings onto people who actually have family and shit to actually talk to, ha. How unrealistic.
> 
> Anyway, let me know if it's any good, and requests are still open if my writing is acceptable!

**Author's Note:**

> So we're going to see whether I can still write or not! This will either be fun or a disaster.  
> Either way, I love this game and its characters and relationships, mostly of all Hank and Connor, of course. I just can't deal with that kind of found family father and son shit, I didn't have a chance against it. It was so powerful it even inspired me to see if I could start writing again, so here we go I guess...


End file.
